


In Fate's Eyes

by angelsandbrowncoats



Series: Nygmobblepot Week 2017 [5]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Fluff, Freak Family (Gotham), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, Nygmobblepot Week 2017, Pining, Revenge, Scheming, Weddings, discussions of torture and murder, kings - Freeform, mentions of dubcon and noncon but it doesn't actually happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-23
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2019-01-04 07:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12164736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelsandbrowncoats/pseuds/angelsandbrowncoats
Summary: Prince Edward of House Nashton has been promised to King Oswald (then crown prince) since he was three years old. Now that he is about to turn twenty, the time has come for the deal to be fulfilled, even if that means he must sacrifice his autonomy to a terrifying monarch in order to save his family's lands. But when he finally meets Oswald in person, he finds that he is more than just the volatile, bloodthirsty king of legend...(Spoiler/Disclaimer for those who feel on the fence about arranged marriage fics: there is absolutely NO noncon or even dubcon in this fic. Oswald discovers Ed's hesitance/fears before the wedding and they mutually set boundaries ahead of time)





	In Fate's Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I've been thinking about doing an arranged marriage fic for awhile, but those are always risky because of the excess of dubcon/noncon. I sincerely hope I've managed to avoid all that disgusting stuff. Noncon should never be romanticized. This was intended to be a largely fluffy story, as well as a triumphant one. But I couldn't resist adding some angst at the beginning as Ed assumes his boundaries won't be respected (they will be). 
> 
> I wouldn't be me if I got a prompt of 'Kings' and didn't make it medieval. So enjoy some medieval Nygmobblepot!
> 
> (also I haven't seen the premiere yet, I'm so sad. I was up til 2am baking bread & I've had classes since 8am today. It's been rough, but I can't wait to see it!)

"But - "

"No. Listen here, boy," the old ex-king, now Duke of Narrows, interrupted his son, "You are _not_ king material. You are hardly even prince material. Under your rule, our land - which was already falling to pieces - would have crumbled into the ground. I did what I had to do to save it, and if you are even an _inch_ greater than the lowest of cowards, you will do the same. Is. That. Clear?"

Ed nodded, shrinking back from the fist his father had slammed against the carriage side with each of his last words.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now stop worrying. It's not as if you have the authority to affect the situation, and it's making you look weaker than usual. Get over it."

Ed chose not to reply, for fear of angering him further. Instead, he swallowed hard and turned to watch the familiar Narrows lands fading into the distance behind the carriage as it drew ever closer to the center of Gotham, the fastest expanding kingdom of the century.

Almost exactly twenty years prior, Ed had been born as the sole heir to the King of Narrows. He had been a sickly child, not to mention disconcerting, and by the age of three, his parents knew he would never have it in him to rule. So they had done the logical thing and promised him off to the son of the nearest, more powerful king. He had grown up a disappointment, shouldering the brunt of their resentment at losing autonomy over their land.

And he had grown up in dread of the day when he would turn twenty and lose autonomy over himself. He had barely had a moment to himself in the past two months, being under guard at all hours after three failed attempts at fleeing the palace. All of it culminating in that very morning, when he had been dressed in the finest clothes and jewels in the kingdom, arranged, in his mind, rather like a swan at a banquet: with the intent to look as pretty as possible before the king carved out all the pieces he liked and left the rest behind.

Worst of all was the king himself. Since Ed had known his fate, essentially, all his life, he had always made sure to keep close tabs on Crown Prince Oswald, heir to the throne of Gotham. By the time of his coronation, Oswald had created quite the reputation as a strict and cunning man. In the five years that had followed, that reputation had morphed into something far more volatile. When his Captain of the Guards had been unmasked as a traitor, he'd carved his heart out in the middle of the throne room. When it was revealed that his father, the old king, had been poisoned to death, he had not stopped until the perpetrators were caught, breaking their legs to fit them into the cramped iron cages that hung from the tallest towers of his fortress.

What really stuck with Ed was the rumor that he had ordered a few of his servants to deliver them water, daily.

So that in the end, it was nearly a fortnight before they died, and no one had ever gotten close enough to determine if it was the hunger or the carrion that did them in.

Rumor also had it that their corpses were still up there, rotting into the wind.

This, _this_ was the man to whom Ed would be gifted. The sovereign lord who would rule over the entirety of his future.

In short, Ed was terrified.

His hands were in his lap, curled into loose fists and partially concealed by the frankly excessive fabric of his... costume. But he could still see how white they were, how shaky.

Three tense and silent hours later, the carriage entered the walls around the capital. They had nearly arrived.

The Duke of Narrows chose that moment to sit upright and glower at his son as he said, "Now remember your role, boy. From the moment your foot touches down on that pavement, your entire existence will revolve around fulfilling the whims and wishes of Gotham's King. If he wants to set you up in the throne room as a centerpiece, you will let him. If he wants to take you, you will let him. If he wants to send you to a dragon as a sacrifice, you. Will. Let. Him. To fail at any point is to bring ruin upon the Narrows and shame upon House Nashton, and you shall forever be remembered in history as a cowardly, incompetent fool!"

Ed nodded, even as he shivered. He had been hearing variations of this speech for his entire life. From the moment he'd been signed away, he had been taught to serve, not rule.

"I'm sure," his father continued, "that you are familiar with how King Oswald the Turbulent deals with disobedience... And for God's sake, don't bore him with those childish word games of yours."

Ed nodded - and shivered - again.

And then the carriage rolled to a halt. Ed felt his pulse spike as he listened to the footmen lay the step, fingers itching for the comfort of something to grip, some ineffective yet symbolic shield between himself and the horrors that lay ahead.

The door opened and he descended the stairs after his father, flinching ever so slightly when the sole of his boot touched the cobblestone below. It was time.

He barely heard the voice announcing their arrival, "Presenting the Duke of Narrows, and his son, Prince Edward."

"Good afternoon, my lords," came a sharp female voice, and Ed saw a woman in heavy armor step forward. A cloud passed across the sun in that moment and in the brief lighting change, he caught a glimpse of burned flesh through her visor. He held back a gasp.

_That_ was rumor he had wholly discounted. It was a tale from legend, not reality. In a small hamlet, a dragon had appeared, terrorizing farmers and villagers alike. Finally, desperate, the village had selected a young girl with no family to speak of to walk into its lair as a sacrifice. But when she arrived, it had been asleep. Unable to turn back, she crept towards its hoard, managing to steal but one throwing dagger before it woke. In a stroke of pure luck or natural talent - or both - the dagger struck the dragon's heart, even as the flames engulfed her. Alive - by a thread - she collapsed, only to fall down and down and down until she landed in a magic pool deep beneath the mountain.

She survived.

And - according to some, whom Ed still did not believe - she gained the ability to transform into a dragon at will.

Whether that last was true or not, the story ended with her returning to the village that had sacrificed her and razing it to the ground. Her power was witnessed by none other than King Oswald himself and, impressed, he hand-selected her to replace his traitorous Captain of the Guards.

"I hope the journey was not rough?" she asked, although Ed detected not a trace of concern in her tone.

"Not at all," his father replied, morphing into the mold of a simpering, backstabbing diplomat. Ed, still caught up on the fact that he was standing in the presence of _Bridgit Pike_ , greatest warrior in all of Gotham, forgot himself and stepped forward, inclining his head. Even as his mouth moved, his insides froze as he realized what he was doing, and that he was likely to be struck for it.

"It is an honor," he said anyway, "to be greeted by one so legendary as yourself, Captain Pike."

His father inhaled sharply, face contorting as he struggled to control his fury. Ed waited, but no blow came. He frowned.

And then it clicked.

He suppressed the urge to cackle madly.

For the first - and likely last - time in his life, Ed had bested his father. _Publicly_ , no less.

Because the truth was, his father hadn't recognized Pike. Even now, his face showed no sign of revelation. _He didn't know._ Not her name and certainly not her reputation. He hadn't the faintest notion that he was in the presence of the Dragonslayer. All he knew was that this unfamiliar woman was deserving of respect, and without Ed's intervention, he would have committed a political fault.

To strike at Ed now was impossible. It would not be taken as a father disciplining his son, but as a subject disrespecting a recognized hero. It would be an open declaration against Pike, and by extension, against Oswald himself. By contrast, he could choose _not_ to react. That was the option he _must_ choose, for it would cost him nothing. Nothing, that is, but the eternal shame of _knowing_. Of the secret which would only ever be shared between himself and Ed.

Ed knew he would savor the knowledge of that shame for the rest of his life, however long or short that may be.

"Ah, the honored guests have arrived," a new voice cut through his private victory. A woman in a flowing green gown with flaming red hair stepped forward, bowing before them both.

"I'm Ivy, Master of Healing," she grinned, "Surely standing around like this is exhausting. You've both had such a long trip! Bridgit, why don't you show the Duke to his quarters? I'll handle the prince."

"Good idea," was all the warrior replied, striding away towards the far guest wing without waiting for the Duke to follow. The palace was massive, the building alone taking up the same size as the entire estate where Ed had been raised. And looming above it, on a not-so distant mountain, was the fortress - a purely military structure with little comfort to speak of. Ed imagined he could see the iron cages dangling from the towers, but he knew, logically, that he could not.

The other woman wrapped her arm around Ed's and he flinched habitually, unused to friendly contact. She said nothing, only led him towards the royal wing, a far grander hall than the place his father would stay. If it weren't for the apprehension curling in his gut, he would have celebrated that fact, too.

When they reached the main corridor, she began the 'tour'.

"Alright so here's where the highest ranking people in Gotham stay. Well, sometimes. Most of us have quarters all over the kingdom - makes us harder to assassinate - but this is HQ. The giant purple door is Ozzie, of course, then beside him is his mother, Gertrude - she's the nicest lady you'll ever meet, if a bit... out of it. I stay in this one, next to Bridgit - the Captain. Those two are for the Victors - er, Chief Scholar and Head of the Hunt. Both formidable in their own right, both pure, fluffy clouds at their cores. And of course," she paused before a door, "the visiting royalty suite. You'll be staying here the first three nights. Before the wedding."

Right.

The wedding.

Ed nodded, waiting for the go ahead to step inside. Ivy gave him a strange look, raising her eyebrows.

"Well?"

"Well what?" he asked, feeling awkward without a proper title of address for her.

"Well don't you want to look around inside? It's your room, after all. I can show you the leisure hall once you're done, to give the servants some time to bring up your luggage."

Ah yes, his luggage. That had been odd indeed, since his parents had been torn between not wanting to part with anything and not wanting to appear poor by sending their son with nothing. In the end, they gave him all the things they liked least to bring along.

"Of course," he said, and opened the door.

The room was gorgeous, naturally, and he could see at least three other rooms further back. The main room held two couches and a low table and opened into a balcony at the far end. The door on the right led to a large bedroom, decorated in royal blues and purples. The doors on the left led to a dressing room and a study, but beyond the dressing room was a private washroom, complete with a stone tub and a dung chute.

Ed very much doubted that his parents' suite back home was as large as this guest one.

"Anything not to your liking?" Ivy inquired after he had finished examining each room.

He shook his head vehemently, "I've never seen a place so nice."

Ivy snorted, "This? Well, get ready to have your stockings knocked off by Ozzie's when you move in."

Ed frowned, "That's the second time you've called him that."

"What, 'Ozzie'?"

"Yes. Aren't you afraid he'll cut your tongue off for that, or something?"

Ivy outright laughed, "You know, I don't think he's ever used that one before. He uses 'string you up' too much. Maybe you could help him with his creativity!"

Ed blinked, "But what about all the stories? How he cut out the traitor's heart, or hung those people from the fortress, or - or the one where he left a man bleeding on a bed of hot coals, and surrounded it with cool water, but the water was filled with starving piranhas?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

"Aren't you terrified he'll overhear you calling him, well, _Ozzie_ and do something equally terrible to you?"

Ivy snorted again, "No, no, no. That's not how he is. Those of us in this hall? We're like his family. He'd sacrifice almost anything for any of us... and we'd do the same for him."

"So... those stories are all just rumors?"

She smirked at him, "Oh no, they're all true. It's just... he only does that to those who deserve it. You feel?"

Ed most certainly did _not_ 'feel'.

But he said, "Yes," all the same.

"Alright, now to the fun stuff!" she skipped down the corridor, opening the doors at the end into another hall.

"So, over there is the human chessboard. Fun times. Those stairs lead up to the observatory. That's Victor Fries' domain, but if you don't mind being bored near to death, feel free to venture up. I have a greenhouse, if you're more interested in cool things, like plants, but that's not in the main building. Down those stairs are the Turkish Baths, special access only, of course. Meaning, just the eight of us have access, and - "

"Eight?"

"Hm?"

"I count seven," he frowned, mentally counting doors.

"Oh, right. Cat's not in the squad, but she comes and goes as she pleases."

"Cat..?"

"Need to know basis. But if you see a girl about my age dressed in all leather climbing around the castle walls, it's probably her."

"Alright," he replied, rather faintly.

"Anyway, through there is the private stage, for mini concerts and stuff, and over there is, of course, the library. Private library, I should say. Oz has a main library for which the general public may obtain permits, but this is where all the _rare_ stuff is."

"How - How rare?" Ed asked, eyes locked on the unassuming yet beautiful wooden door.

"One of a kind books, books imported from the other side of the world, books in languages that no known person can read. All kinds. You a bookworm?"

"You might say that," he answered, still gazing at the library.

"Then go on," she urged him, "Check it out. You've got time. The servants need to bring your stuff up, like I said, and there are no obligations until supper. The king will formally greet you at the welcome feast," she smirked at him, "He's been quite... curious to meet you. But seriously, go check out the library. A servant will come fetch you when it's time."

Ed didn't need more prompting than that, opening the door with care and losing himself instantly as he stepped inside. He didn't even notice Ivy closing the door behind him and slipping away. A heavy desk littered with paper sat to the side of the door, a plush chair behind it. To the other side was a scattered assortment of winged armchairs with small tables between them. But Ed's attention was locked on the rest of the room: rows and rows of shelves stretched up to the ceiling, each shelf full of pristine, enchanting volumes.

Ed's feet carried him into the rows without him issuing the command. His finger reached out, stroking over the embossed spines of the finest books and the coarse binding of those whose past adventures were _tangible_. Ed felt his tongue running over his lips, again and again, a sign of being lost in thoughts that were too strong to be put into words.

Words _did_ rise, unbidden, to the surface of his mind.

_Leave it to you to fall in love three days before your wedding._

If only, thought Ed, if only he were marrying the books and not the man who owned them.

"Excuse me."

Ed nearly jumped out of his skin.

He turned to see whomever had interrupted him.

"I don't believe I'm familiar with you. What might you be doing in the king's private library?"

Ed stuttered, "I - Ivy said it w - was okay."

"Ivy? Who are you?"

He resisted the urge to say 'nobody' and instead tried to sound commanding in the way he knew he couldn't, "I am Prince Edward, son of the newly-named Duke of Narrows, betrothed to King Oswald of Gotham."

The stranger raised an eyebrow, whether impressed or unimpressed remained to be seen, "Well then, Prince Edward. Welcome to my library."

"Your library?" he couldn't resist asking, "You're the librarian here?"

"You could say that. This library is my domain as much as it is my retreat. There's something comforting about the smell of paper and ink, don't you agree?"

Ed nodded enthusiastically, "I always used to hide in the library whenever I managed to escape back home. Not that our library was anything near as grand as this one."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. Where do you find all of them?" he asked, awe coloring his voice as he pulled a worn journal only an inch from its place.

"That one was the personal log of a sailor who was captured by our side during a vicious battle. You can see the damage of the wind and saltwater. It was removed from his person to search for enemy plots, but it turned out to be mostly poetry. Good poetry, at that. It saved his life, in the end. The king spared him on the condition that he become a court poet."

Ed gaped openly, "Do you know the history of ever book in this room?"

"Heavens no. Just the ones with memorable backstories."

Ed couldn't resist smiling along with that one. At least he seemed to have found one potential ally - _even friend_ , his mind traitorously suggested - at the palace.

He had to test the waters carefully if he wanted this to work out.

Ed cleared his throat, "Do you, by any chance, like riddles?"

"I suppose that depends on how good they are. A terrible riddle might insult my intelligence, and that would be no fun at all, don't you think?"

He felt a swooping sensation in his chest and a pressure behind his eyes. Was this really what it felt like to have a friend? Someone to talk with, someone who wouldn't put stress on you, someone who you could share your interests with freely. Could it be real?

"Though I am dead, I can give you another life. I can bring joy during peace and warnings in strife. What am I?"

"A good riddle in most cases, but the situational context is making you toe the line towards insulting," the librarian chuckled, "Try again."

And Ed smiled brighter than the sun because that was the _perfect_ answer.

But as he opened his mouth to try again, he was prematurely interrupted, "On second thought, don't. You came here to enjoy our vast collection of marvelous texts, and I would hate to have gotten in your way. I have some... other duties to perform, so if you'll excuse me."

"Of course," said Ed, nodding deferentially out of habit before he realized he outranked librarians. The librarian smiled at his fault and nodded back, heading towards the door. Just as it began to swing shut, Ed realized something and spun around, calling back, "Wait! I forgot to ask - what's your name?"

A hand shot out to halt the door, leaving it cracked three inches.

Ed held his breath.

An amused voice floated back to him before it clicked shut, "It's a riddle."

And then Ed was alone in the library of his dreams once more, smiling faintly at the memory of the kind stranger.

Two hours of sheer bliss later, Ed's browsing was interrupted again, this time by a servant seeking to fetch him for supper.

As was proper, the servant said nothing besides, "Pardon me, my lord, you presence is requested in the Great Hall at this time. I have been asked to show you the way."

As was _not_ proper, Ed had completely ignored the statements, following the servant on autopilot as his mouth ran with facts, "Did you know they have the diary of the first Wayne of Gotham's wife? She wrote down all these fascinating details about the part they played in building up the city, not to mention cultural and societal tidbits about the time. _And_ they have a book written entirely in Punic, the Phoenician dialect! And another inscribed only on thin sheets of pure silver! And one that I think may be skin and blood, which I'm not sure I want to ask about. And - "

He cut himself off as the servant stopped before the golden doors of the Great Hall, bowing and retreating as the announcer took charge.

"Good evening, my lord," he bowed, "As a guest of honor, you will be seated at the head table, of course. Your place is between Captain Pike and Sir Fries, Chief Scholar. When you enter, you are to walk up to the head table - you shall be accompanied by guards, don't worry - and kneel. The king will then formally greet you, welcoming you and your family and entourage to his palace. Sit once he instructs you to. And remember to bow until he permits you to rise."

Ed nodded. He knew the protocol. One did not look at a king until the king had first allowed it. Even if said king was going to be one's husband three days hence.

"Good," the announcer nodded back, gesturing for the doors to be swung open and adjusting his voice to boom throughout the hall, "And now, our Most Honored Guest, Prince Edward of House Nashton, son of the Duke of Narrows."

Ed stepped forward, careful to keep his head raised but his eyes lowered until he saw the raised platform upon which the head table sat. He halted, ignoring the perfect formation halt of the guards around him, and dropped down to one knee, right elbow resting on his raised right knee, head bowed, and knuckles pressed against his lips in a proper genuflect.

A strong, coarse voice - oddly familiar although Ed shook that off as his brain playing tricks on him as usual - spoke over him.

"Welcome, Edward of House Nashton, to you and all those who accompanied you. May you find nothing lacking in our hospitality. If there is anything you should need, you need only say the word. But I won't keep you from the meal that was prepared in your honor and that I sincerely hope will be to your liking. You may rise."

Ed pushed himself to his feet, nervously brushing his hands down the front of his outfit before he looked up.

And locked eyes with the librarian.

Only... the librarian didn't look much like a librarian anymore.

No, now he wore an even _more_ elaborate costume than Ed's monstrosity, but in a fashionable royal purple. And on his head was none other than the Crown of Gotham.

The fact that Ed didn't faint instantly was a testament to his true strength.

King Oswald the Great, King Oswald the Turbulent, King Oswald the Volatile, King Oswald the Librarian locked eyes with his betrothed.

The corner of his lip twitched into the tiniest smirk, most of the humor hidden in his striking green eyes as he continued, "This moment has been long awaited by the Kingdom of Gotham. It was my late father who orchestrated it, and I know that he is here in spirit," and then Ed forced his jaw not to drop as Oswald said with obvious amusement, "And thus concludes our decades-anticipated first meeting. Please, take your place," he gestured graciously towards the seat reserved for Edward.

Once again operating without conscious thought, letting his body take over, Ed walked over to the empty seat, sitting down in a daze. Captain Pike was still mostly in armor, looking every bit the fierce warrior as she lounged back in the high-backed chair. To his other side was a dark haired man in a light blue robe, and Ed could see multiple scrolls protruding from a pouch at his side. Ivy was at the far end of the table, with the King in the middle. Of the other two, Ed deduced that the bald man must be Victor of the Hunt and the old lady dressed as a proper fortune teller must be the Lady Gertrude.

He appreciated the symmetrical arrangement. After the wedding, he hoped Gertrude would swap places with Victor of the Hunt, as he would inevitably swap places with Captain Pike, in order to maintain the balance of royal family, warriors, and scholars.

Ed held back a laugh as the servants entered carrying a painted swan. Behind those were more servants, carrying platters and baskets laden with vegetables and breads, and pheasant and geese for the other tables. At the tail end of the procession were those bearing wines and ales. The very last servant held a single, silver bowl of pears in red wine.

They dispersed in formation throughout the hall, distributing the food evenly across the tables, excepting the head table, which received the best of everything. When the bowl of fruit had been placed at Oswald's left hand, he moved to carve the swan. The room waited in silence as he selected his own pieces and passed the platter up and down the head table. Ed chose two pieces to look grateful, feeling, in truth, rather queasy. Finally the head table's plates were filled and Oswald raised his hands, "Our thanks are extended to the farmers, cooks, and hunters who have acquired this feast for us, to those that taught them, and to our ancestors who devised such clever methods. And," here he glanced at Ivy, but Ed couldn't see his expression, "We are grateful to the world for providing the contents of the feast, and to the creatures that have given their lives so that we may be well fed. Let us make the most of their sacrifices. By order of the King: Feast!"

A round of applause echoed in the hall and Ed hesitantly joined in. Both Fries and Pike seemed to clap as a matter of propriety, although the other Victor, Gertrude, and Ivy sounded far more enthusiastic. Oswald lowered his hands to his own meal and as one the rest of the hall did the same.

Ed had to admit, five bites later, that the food _was_ good. His nausea had subsided slightly as it sank in that he didn't have to do anything else. Just sit there and eat. Pike was engaged in conversation with Oswald, and Fries was even more engrossed in scrawling something out to the side of his plate. Ed was tempted to look over and read it, but he decided it was far too early to be making enemies, even in his natural way of being himself.

Which of course brought his thoughts back to Oswald. Or rather, to the librarian who hadn't been a librarian at all. What on earth had that been? Clearly Oswald had been laughing at him, but he hadn't a clue whether it was a benign or a malicious sort of laughter. Had Oswald truly been interested in his company and merely curious as to how he would react, or had he only seen the weak fool Ed's parents had always seen and decided to take advantage of his ignorance to mock him?

"So," a voice broke through his confusion and he startled. Fries had turned to him, eyes piercing with intent, "So I've heard you're something of a scholar, yourself."

"I - " Ed said, unsure where to go with that. Who would have told him that? Surely not his own parents?

"Well, if you've ever got time, stop by my observatory. I've been working on a few projects - tracking the planets, dissection, alchemy, all kinds - and another perspective is _always_ appreciated."

Ed perked up at that. Sure, astronomy and alchemy and physics and medicine were all interesting, but, "You do dissection?"

"Yeah."

"What kind?"

"Any kind. I'm working on eels at the moment."

"Do you ever do human?" Ed asked before he could stop himself. He bit his lip as soon as it was out. He'd ruined things for sure, now. Only a freak would want to dissect another human, and no one wanted to associate with a freak, and -

"Oh yeah, every chance I get," Fries answered, perfectly calm and deadly serious, "It can be a bit hard to get the bodies, even working for the king, since people are all about their rituals. But every now and again somebody'll die without relatives, or somebody's been excommunicated, and we can snatch them up before anyone else gets their hands on the corpses."

A thought struck Ed and he voiced it, "What about the people who've been executed? Like in the story..."

"You mean the bodies in the cages?"

Ed nodded, "I heard they were still there. Surely you would've - "

"Oh they're still there, alright. I head up to look them over every few weeks. It's the closest we've come to isolating the element of air and its effects on decomposition yet. Obviously there's still some water damage when it rains, but we've completely removed the factors of fire and earth, which is where we typically see corpses interacting with the natural world. How does a body decompose when there are no flames to burn it or grubs to consume it? It's really very fascinating."

Ed really needed to work on controlling his words, he decided, as he asked, "Can I see them?"

Fries glanced at him in surprise, "You want to see four year old decaying bodies?"

He bit his lip.

"Is that a trick question?"

And Fries burst out laughing, although Ed would classify it as a 'guffaw', a word he seldom used to describe anything.

"You know what, kid, I think you'll fit in perfectly around here. And for the record, I'd have to okay it with Oswald, but sure you can come along next time I head up there. And remember, the observatory doors are always open for those who appreciate science in all its complexities. If you get the chance, I'd be very interested to discuss retrograde motion with you sometime."

"Oh thank god, are you two _done_ yet?" Pike interrupted, "Some of us have been trying to _eat_ which isn't the time you want to hear about, as you put it, 'four year old decaying bodies'."

"I'm sorry," Ed apologized instantly, tensing in anticipation of some form of punishment. Fries just laughed, "Oh please, Fire-girl. If anyone here has an iron stomach, it'd be you. What's a corpse here or there to the infamous Dragonslayer?"

"Kiss my ass, Icicle."

"Sorry, I'm spoken for."

"Icicle?" Ed asked.

Pike cackled and Fries rolled his eyes.

"See, everybody knows how _I_ joined Oswald's little group of trusted officials, but a lot less are familiar with his story, although I think it's _much_ funnier. See, he'd decided to track down this legendary expedition. A group of explorers seeking Paradise that never returned. He tracked them far into the North, beyond any and all civilization. In a cave so dark a man couldn't see his hand in front of his face, he ventured deeper and deeper, with naught but a torch to light his way," she'd lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper, "His rations were slowly depleting, until one day, he opened his last jar of soup. He collapsed onto a boulder in despair, knowing that he would die in this frozen cavern. In a fit of rage, he threw the jar against the cave wall. And knocked a hole in it. He scrambled forward and to his utter shock and wonder, he saw the ancient ship, skeletons and all. And the piles upon piles of gold and silver they'd plundered along their way before becoming trapped in ice.

Now it is important to note that his wife - betrothed at the time - inherited a great fortune. When he didn't return within the month, she petitioned the king to send out _carrier pigeons_ , of all things, in search of him. Not knowing the way out, he'd been camping out under ancient furs, refusing to burn the ship as a 'precious historical artifact' and only very reluctantly eating the centuries-old hard bread. A tiny hole at the top of the cavern was enough for a pigeon to fit through, and in his delirium, he thought it was his betrothed, transformed. His fingers were too frozen to write, but he recalled the ways they used to pass secret messages, when they studied in neighboring academies. Knowing a letter from a member of a different gender would be confiscated, they signed with thumbprints. He took up an three-hundred year old knife and sliced open his arm to use the blood for ink. The army retrieved his nearly-dead, very-frozen body three days later. In return for his dedication to finding the truth, Oswald awarded him with the position of Chief Scholar. His wife was given her own academy."

"Hilarious?" Ed questioned, "I would've said romantic."

"Nearly dying 'for science' is romantic? Damn you're weird," she shook her head.

Ed flinched.

Pike didn't see it as she glanced across him to Fries, "You're right, he'll fit right in."

~ ~ ~

The next morning, Ed found himself wandering the palace halls. He'd certainly slept well, despite his unease, thanks to the sheer comfort of the Royal Guest Suite. After a warm breakfast had been delivered directly to him, he had been given instructions to explore the palace at his leisure, provided he met with the wedding coordinator over tea.

He had paused at the stairs to the observatory, but ultimately he had decided to wait. There would be plenty of time to converse with Fries. No, there was something pulling him, practically physically, towards the library.

He told himself it was the promise of all those beautiful books.

It wasn't.

(Well, it wasn't _all_ of it)

He entered the library and immediately returned to the shelves, browsing. Later, he figured, he would have time to read them all. For now, he wanted to meet them. Using instinct alone, he wandered up and down, selecting the books that felt best and examining them. Their binding, their titles, their pages, and their text.

The latest was bound in dark blue silk with a title forged from silver. It was a star chart, he realized as he opened it, a careful measurement and plotting of the stars every night over a two year period. And, if he was right, it was written in Danish. Fascinating.

A light cough behind him made him jump, although not quite as much as last time.

"You! - I - I mean, Your Majesty," he exclaimed, bowing low but mindful of the book in his hand.

King Oswald smirked at him.

Ed waited, not sure if he was permitted to speak yet.

"I see you've already begun to find a place for yourself here," he nodded at the text in Ed's hand, "Victor will be pleased. I heard some of your conversation last night. He doesn't get a lot of takers to discuss the more... gruesome parts of his job with. Ivy will, on occasion, but death is the one topic his wife refuses to indulge him in. I hope you've been settling in smoothly?"

It took Ed a moment to respond, his brain still struggling to compute that the man before him - the man who had joked with him, who seemed genuinely concerned about his well being - was the same man he had heard so many tales about.

"Edward?"

"Sorry," he amended with haste, "Yes, Your Majesty, everything has been going very smoothly."

"You feel welcomed here?"

"Yes, Your Majesty, very much so."

"You know if anyone is permitted to call me Oswald, you'd definitely be near the top of the list, on principle. After my mother, of course, and perhaps Ivy."

"Ivy doesn't call you Oswald," Ed said, once again cursing his mouth for being faster than his brain.

Oswald pursed his lips, "Now _that_ is something which I really don't think you're entitled to call me. In truth, she shouldn't either, but she knows that for her to earn my wrath, she must commit a far greater infraction, and it is a privilege she enjoys flaunting. But we do not know each other, and while we shall inevitably come to know each other at some point, my leniency towards you does not extend that far at this moment in time. Oswald will do."

Now this was, while not _precisely_ what Ed had imagined, much closer.

"Understood... Oswald."

"Good," Oswald nodded towards the armchairs, "Would you indulge me in a chat?"

Ed wasn't sure he was allowed to say no, but he was to curious to do so, anyway. Instead he nodded and followed the king over to the seats. Oswald immediately chose the largest of them, a grand plush throne of violet velvet and indicated that Ed should take the one directly to his right. Ed complied, trying to take up as little space as possible. He hadn't anticipated Oswald's being so much... smaller than he was, not that Ed had ever been confident with his own height. But above everything, he didn't want to tower over the king.

"Forgive my bluntness, Edward," Oswald began, eyes on Ed's face, "but I am unused to not knowing all the pieces on my game board, and while I have known of your role since I was nine years old, I do not know _you_. An intelligent man would say that to ask you who you are is too open-ended. That I would overwhelm you and I could learn more by asking specific questions that target the things about you I am most concerned with."

He fell silent and Ed felt, instinctively, that he should prompt him.

"And do you consider yourself an intelligent man?"

Oswald smiled thinly, "I prefer to think of myself as a wise one."

"And what would a wise man say?"

"A wise man," Oswald answered, smile still firmly in place, "Would say that, if one knows what one is doing, one can learn infinitely more about a person from giving them the reigns. Where do they take you? And an intelligent man would say that I have ruined my experiment by telling you that I am conducting it. But a wise man would say that it doesn't matter either way. Not if I am good enough at reading people."

"And you are confident in your abilities?"

This time the smile actually reached his eyes.

"Tell me, Edward: Who are you?"

Ed thought long and hard before answering, "That depends on who you are."

"Which is to say," Oswald narrowed his eyes, searching Ed's expression, "that _you_ are an intelligent man."

In any other circumstance, Ed would have preened at the compliment. As it was, he couldn't tell if it _was_ a compliment.

"And I think you have the potential to be a wise man as well. But you are not yet. Still, intelligence is nothing to scoff at. And in the spirit of those words, I will _also_ be asking you some targeted questions. First and foremost, have _you_ been briefed on your duties as my husband?"

"Yes," Ed replied, unable to make eye contact with him. He never enjoyed eye contact, but this felt even more personally invasive.

"You have been formally trained in current Gotham etiquette?"

"Yes."

"What are you seeking to gain from this union?"

"To secure the future of the Narrows," Ed answered automatically. Oswald shook his head, "No, no. You misunderstand. What are you seeking to gain _for you_ \- not your family or your domain?"

Ed didn't give an answer. He didn't have one.

Oswald sighed, "Let me rephrase: Why did you agree to this?"

"Why did I what?"

"Why did you agree? To marry me?"

Ed stared at him, "What do you mean? My parents arranged for this. To refuse to comply would be to exile _myself_ , possibly even to condemn myself to being executed as a traitor."

"You mean to say that your parents didn't consult with you first?" Oswald's brow furrowed. Ed laughed, looking alarmed at how loud it was, "I was three years old when this deal was struck."

"So you had _zero_ input in your own fate?" Oswald was openly frowning now.

"Why would I have been asked? I'm - I'm just a stupid little kid who doesn't know when to shut up," he admitted, instantly regretting his openness.

"In short," Oswald continued, "You have _not_ agreed to this marriage, and are only going through with it to avoid banishment and disgrace.

Again Ed could not reply without condemning himself, so he stayed silent.

Oswald turned to fully face him, voice firm as he said, "Look at me, Edward."

And Ed complied, because it was his duty.

"I was not aware of your unwillingness prior to this morning. In light of this information - "

Throwing caution to the wind, Ed interrupted the king, "Please, don't back out. I - My father - He - The Narrows - "

"Silence," Oswald commanded, and Ed bit his tongue, "Now, stop fretting. I am not backing out. It's a little late for that anyway. Too much time and money has gone into preparations, and the Narrows has already officially been annexed by Gotham. I only meant to reassure you by saying that, in light of this information, you may rest assured that, to the fullest safe extent, your privacy will be strictly respected. I am as unfamiliar with marriage as you, but _I_ was given the choice to accept this arrangement, and you were not. Therefore, I give you my word that I will _never_ force you into anything. I don't know if that will be a comfort to you, because you _are_ an intelligent man, so you undoubtedly know that if I break my promise, it will be your word against mine and I am the king. But nonetheless, I _do_ give you my word."

Ed felt like crying, but he had been told enough times that crying was the greatest sign of weakness, so he fought it back. Instead, he managed a slightly shaky, "Thank you."

Oswald looked somewhat sad himself, "It is only beginning to register how terrifying this must have been for you. I must say, I rather regret allowing the House of Nashton to remain in control of the Narrows. I don't think I approve of their... attitude. You may have noticed that I practice a few _unconventional_ methods in my reign. My parents pushed the boundaries of tradition, and I have taken that legacy even further. I have built a family, a House of my own, out of more than a few talented misfits. I have a gift for predicting how things will turn out. My mother calls it fortune-telling. I call it reading people. It's the same thing. And I predict that, before long, you will have not only symbolically joined the House of Cobblepot, but also proven yourself a true member. And, provided you do not betray us, you will always be welcome among us. In fact, I believe this quite strongly. Strongly enough that I might suggest a particular powerplay, although you won't have much time to decide if you are willing to take the risk."

~ ~ ~

"Remember everything we taught you," his mother told him as she oversaw the three servants who were making the final adjustments to his ceremonial robes, "Do our House proud, and maybe you won't go down in the record books as such an abysmal failure."

Ed's expression didn't change even an inch. He had taken verbal, physical, and emotional abuse from his parents for his entire life, he could endure another couple hours before he was rid of them forever. And while he still felt nervous about the arrangement, if the last few days had proven anything to him, it was that Oswald and House Cobblepot would treat him better than anyone had before in his life.

"Of course, mother," he replied woodenly. She ignored him, continuing to 'review' about how a King Consort should act. Internally Ed repeated the promise Oswald had given him over and over, trying to block out her words.

" - and no matter what, you must do as your King commands. Now - "

A knock on the door interrupted them all. His mother waited impatiently, a scowl tugging at her features as one of the servants opened it to reveal Fries himself. Captain Pike was only a few steps behind.

"It's time."

Ed's mother pinched him harshly on the arm as the servants removed the last of the pins from his robes. Loudly, she reminded him, "Don't embarrass us, Edward."

Ed didn't reply, stepping as gracefully as he could off the pedestal and into the hallway where he was immediately flanked by guards. Victor and Bridgit led them from the front and Ed's mother trailed along behind, shortly joined by his father. They halted at the doors to the cathedral, where Ed watched with some amusement as an acolyte tried to engage Victor in a silent argument. It was clear the man was disliked here.

The acolyte eventually abandoned his task, instead pulling Ed to the side.

"You will enter last, my lord, as is traditional. As is not traditional, His Majesty the King has requested that you enter alone. Your parents are to enter together, instead. Wait here for my mark. Is that clear?"

Ed nodded. Normally he would feel insulted at the presumed lack of knowledge, but he was honestly too overwhelmed to feel much at all.

"And if you want the Church's advice... stay away from that man over there. He desecrates graves and challenges the Lord."

"Duly noted," Ed replied automatically.

And then the organ was playing and formations were preparing and the large golden doors swung open.

Row after row entered, each pair of notable figures separated by a pair of guards for extra protection. Finally Ed watched his parents disappear into the cathedral and then the acolyte was nodding at him.

He swallowed once to ground himself and then he began his long walk forward. At least he didn't have to worry about walking to fast - the excessively long robes slowed him down well enough as is. He just hoped the guards behind him wouldn't step on it and trip him up, but he supposed fear of Oswald might stop them.

The second he passed the doors he became even more overwhelmed, from the crowds of people seated on either side to the loud organ music to the shocking array of white flowers creating a living canopy over the main platform.

Oswald stood at the center, resplendent in gold and looking positively majestic. To his side stood Ivy and the other Victor. Bridgit and the Victor he knew were on Ed's side, while all three parents were seated in the front row. Ed was directed to stand opposite Oswald and he tuned out as the ceremony began.

An indeterminate amount of time later, he tuned back in as he saw Oswald twist the head of his cane.

"... forever hold his peace," the bishop paused here, waiting for objections.

A heartbeat passed and Ed bit his lip. He couldn't object if he wanted to. It wasn't allowed.

Another heartbeat.

One more, and then -

"I object!"

Gasps ricocheted around the room as people turned to the speaker.

Master Healer Ivy stepped forward, expression carefully determined as she peered around the cathedral. Ed's gaze snapped to his parents and he saw with some satisfaction that his mother's knuckles had gone white and a vein was pulsing on his father's forehead.

"On what grounds do you base this objection, Master Healer?" the bishop asked, looking somewhere between shocked and exasperated, as if it wasn't at all uncommon for members of House Cobblepot to do this sort of ridiculous thing.

"On the grounds that Prince Edward hasn't specified which House he is accepting the terms of this arrangement for," she recited, flawlessly.

Ed's father stood up and the corner of Ed's mouth twitched.

"I'm sorry?" asked the bishop.

"As of nine am this morning, this arrangement is between House Van Dahl and Prince Edward. As a member of _two_ noble Houses, it is Prince Edward's responsibility to clarify which House is to participate in said arrangement. It is simply not possible for both Houses to reap the rewards."

"She's right," the magistrate, who Ed only now noticed, interjected, "It _is_ the law."

"But he's not!" Ed's father exclaimed from where he was standing, "He's a member of House Nashton."

Oswald met Ed's eyes and nodded.

Ed cleared his throat and the cathedral fell silent.

"My father is correct. I am a member of House Nashton. But the Master Healer is also correct. I belong to two Houses. And I am accepting House Van Dahl's arrangement on behalf of House Cobblepot. Not House Nashton."

Chaos erupted.

~ ~ ~

"... In fact, I believe this quite strongly. Strongly enough that I might suggest a particular powerplay, although you won't have much time to decide if you are willing to take the risk."

It took Ed exactly four seconds to realize where Oswald was going with this.

"You want me to denounce House Nashton. You want me to disown myself."

It was gutsy move. One Ed would never have thought of on his own.

"Yes," Oswald inclined his head, "As I said, I will not force you to do anything you don't wish to do. But I can sense a certain animosity between you and your family. And people often forget that, as I founded House Cobblepot myself, I belong to _two_ Houses. And you were promised to the heir of House Van Dahl."

"What are you saying?"

"If you, in the next two days, decide to agree to my plan, I will have you immediately indoctrinated into House Cobblepot and marry you on behalf of House Van Dahl alone. And since House Cobblepot is founded on merit, not blood ties, there is no legal constraint. You come of age at nine in the morning on the day of the wedding, according to Gotham law. The moment you come of age, any deal involving you comes under your control. We can circumvent the original deal if you voluntarily cut ties with House Nashton while remaining a member of a noble House. Cloth versus Sword means nothing on these terms. Your father's position as Duke was done preemptively and is not guaranteed until you wed me in the name of Nashton. If you change to House Cobblepot, the terms of the deal will change to allow a Cobblepot the Dukedom."

"But it's still too late to void it?"

"Correct. Your father was clever when he wrote out the terms. There is a reason the wedding was set to occur on the day you come of age. He knew you might want to back out, so a 'clause of good faith' was added, that states that a no-consequence cancellation must be made at least two months prior to the event, and a _costly_ cancellation may not be made any later than three days prior. This _sounded_ reasonable, while ensuring that, once you gained autonomy over your arrangement, you would not have the time to renege on it. But even he would not be prepared for you to _change alliances_ , especially not this late in the game."

Ed suddenly realized why Oswald was such a fearsome king. He _hadn't known_ that Ed's parents didn't give him a choice. Not until Ed had admitted it, minutes ago. And already he had devised what seemed to be a flawless plan to wreak vengeance upon a man he barely knew. Ed was thoroughly awed.

"Let's say," he said, voice higher pitched than normal, "Let's say I agree. What would I have to do?"

"Well, the biggest part of reputation building is the showmanship. Timing and appearances are vital. The shock value is the value of how well people remember you. With that in mind, the first thing you would do is secretly join House Cobblepot. Join on Ivy's or Victor's behalf, not mine. It's a simple ritual. I, the leader, must be present, alongside a non-member of the House, all available House members, including the advocate for you, and you. The advocate proposes your inclusion in the House and lists evidence as to why. You plead your case however you feel best. Some have knelt and proclaimed themselves unworthy but earnest. Others have presented a list of benefits that they would bring to the House. Some have just said 'please'. Whatever you do, be convincing. The non-House member is merely a witness. The present House members vote on your inclusion in the House. You may have no more than two 'nay's. If you are voted in, I will welcome you to the House and give you the official colors and insignia."

"And then what?"

"Then we wait. The ideal timing for you to renounce House Nashton would be between the moment you come of age and the ceremony itself. That is a narrow window. Unfortunately, renouncing a House without first having an incident, even if there are _past_ incidents, violates a folkway that could throw in some legal issues. Instead, I propose a third party intervention. More or less."

"More or less?"

"When the officiant asks for objections, Ivy will object on the grounds that you have not specified which House you are fulfilling the contract for. _That_ is a stroke of luck on our part, that the contract only says 'his House', not 'House Nashton'. Conceit can be a beautiful thing. It is _then_ that you will choose House Cobblepot, and when your relatives inevitably lose it, you tack on your renunciation, thus ridding both yourself and the Narrows of the Nashtons forever."

Ed knew he was gaping and he knew there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He had always been secretly proud of his ability to memorize facts and solve puzzles, but this - this was something else entirely.

"But - you don't even know me."

"Do I have to?" Oswald asked, "I thought who you were depended on who I am. In which case it falls to me to make the first move. Consider it made."

Ed scratched out everything he'd thought about how Oswald wasn't who he thought he was because Oswald wasn't who he thought he _hadn't_ thought he was and even a brain as good as Ed's wasn't quick enough to decipher what _that_ meant.

"You have today and tomorrow to think about it," Oswald assured him, "As long as you have decided by the night before, we have time to execute it. And don't worry if you aren't willing to take the risk. I won't hold it against you in any way shape or form. You will be just as welcome here and in House Cobblepot either way. I only asked to give you the chance to take advantage of the situation for closure or revenge, not for any gain on my own part."

"I - thank you," Ed swallowed, "I'll give it some thought."

"Good. Now, do _you_ have any questions for _me_?"

Ed considered this, "Why did _you_ agree?"

"The king is expected to marry, but I never cared much for pursuing anyone. It seemed like a convenient way to avoid having to actually look, and it came with a major land acquisition."

That wasn't unreasonable, so Ed just nodded.

"Will - Will I still be allowed to explore the palace once we're married, or will I be watched?"

Oswald laughed, "Am I being watched?"

Ed raised an eyebrow, unsure how to answer.

"Assuming," Oswald said, "That you are not in danger, you will be at complete liberty to roam the palace and grounds. If you wish to leave the grounds, even to accompany Victor to the fortress, you will, of course, be escorted by a guard for your own protection," he frowned with a sudden thought, "I won't keep you locked up in my quarters like some sort of prize, if that's what you're wondering. I do not know what you were told in preparation, but you aren't becoming some sort of personal servant, or even a consort. You will be wielding a considerable amount of political power, if you wish. Not that you will be required to make daily appearances in court unless you choose to, or anything. It's entirely your decision whether you want to simply live here or join the game. But be warned, once you join the game, you will always be a part of it, to some degree," he paused again, "I'm afraid there _will_ be mandatory ceremonies, though."

Ed smiled at that, "Okay."

There was a brief silence before Oswald spoke again, "I heard Bridgit telling you Victor's story last night. Perhaps you would be interested in seeing the books recovered from the frozen ship he found?"

"There were _books_?" Ed sat up quickly, his enthusiasm for knowledge taking hold.

"Of course. If you'll follow me," Oswald stood up and headed towards a shelf further back. Ed scrambled to his feet in his hurry to catch up.

~ ~ ~

  
Ed's focus was narrowed down to his father's rage as he cursed him in disbelief. And then he froze as his father stormed towards him landing one resounding slap across his face before guards ran forward to restrain him.

"Go on," Oswald whispered, and Ed turned to face the man (and woman) who had tormented him his entire life. He was beginning to feel a slow satisfaction as he watched his father being held back by four guards, two more eyeing his mother in case she wanted to get in on it.

"I am Prince Edward, of the Noble House of Cobblepot, betrothed to none other than the King of Gotham himself. And the Head of House Nashton has publicly struck me, humiliated me for this whole cathedral, for _God himself_ ," he threw in for good measure, "to see. In light of this, I renounce House Nashton forever."

Oswald stepped forward and ordered, "Remove them my kingdom. House Nashton has done great insult to House Cobblepot _and_ House Van Dahl this day. Consider yourselves fortunate. Today is my wedding day, you see, so I'm in a rather forgiving mood. I will see you disgraced and exiled. Nothing more," he smiled, or rather smirked, with immeasurable sadism as his guards stepped forward to remove them from the hall.

"You can't do this!" Ed's father shouted, "I'm a _Duke_!"

"Actually," Oswald replied calmly, "The Duke of the Narrows is none other than my trusted friend Victor Zsasz. You see, according to the contract, the Narrows will go to a member of the House that fulfilled it. That House is House Cobblepot. It's quite simple. You are no one. You are nothing. Now begone from my sight or I'll arrange for your new living quarters. We're a little overbooked at the moment, so I'd be forced to set you up with my dear step-siblings, and - not to spread rumors, but... they smell."

"Son," Ed turned at the sound of his mother's voice, "My little boy! You can't let him do this to us."

Ed stared at her, eyes vacant as he answered, "No matter what, I must do as my King commands."

Her sobs and screams broke through his mental and emotional barriers and he smiled - wide and brilliant - for the first time in far too long. A soft laugh escaped his throat and he turned to Oswald, eyes sparkling with glee as he said, "Thank you."

"It was no issue," Oswald assured him softly. He turned to the bishop and spoke in a commanding tone, "Continue with the ceremony, please."

"Of course, Your Majesty. At once," the bishop acquiesced, and Ed was surprised to find the hall had already fallen silent after his parents' departure.

Ed tuned out again until the part where he had to repeat whatever the bishop told him - some traditional stuff about serving and loving and caring, which Oswald parroted back with his version about protecting and loving and providing for, until finally it drew to a close.

"I now pronounce you King and King of Gotham. You may solidify this union with a kiss."

The bishop snapped his book shut and stepped back as Oswald stepped forward. Ed swallowed again, nerves returning as he anticipated Oswald's movements. Physical contact for him had always been painful. Something as gentle as a kiss seemed rather terrifying, as the unknown will.

But he reminded himself that Oswald didn't _know_ either, and he felt relief flood over him as Oswald pulled him down for the most perfunctory of kisses - just a brief touch of his lips against Ed's and then he was stepping back.

The audience clapped and Oswald wrapped a hand around Ed's wrist, leading him down the platform and out of the cathedral. A carriage was waiting for them at the door, and a footment helped both of them inside.

"I hope that wasn't too stressful for you?" Oswald asked the moment the door was closed, "You seemed quite uncomfortable."

Ed shrugged, "I'm not great with crowds. But that's my problem."

Oswald looked at him closely, "I don't make promises lightly, Edward. To the fullest extent that you feel comfortable, I will fulfill those vows. If there is anything that I can do to make your life here easier, you need only say the word. Today you became the second most powerful person in the world. Remember that."

Ed met his eyes and nodded, "Okay."

Oswald smiled at him, a nice smile, unlike his usual mocking one, and said, "Good."

In that moment, Ed realized he didn't mind being married to King Oswald. He didn't mind it at all.

~ ~ ~

Over a year down the road, Oswald returned from a two month war against a neighboring Queen. He avoided Ed for a week after returning, before he formally invited him to a lunch in a tower, with large windows on all sides. The view was stunning but Ed was unsettled, fearing what drastic news Oswald was clearly holding back.

It turned out to be an apology.

"I'm sorry," Oswald said after taking one bite out of a slice of bread.

"What?" Ed frowned, setting his spoon slowly back down beside his soup.

"I have to apologize to you," Oswald continued, "I have been keeping a secret from you. One that may make you hate me, but I _must_ tell you."

Dread curled in the pit of Ed's stomach as he asked, "What secret?"

"I love you," Oswald cringed the moment the words left his lips, "I didn't mean to. I know our marriage was... forced upon you, and I want to respect your privacy. But I couldn't help it. I didn't realize until I left you for two months. You were all I thought about, Edward. On some days, the thought of you was all that kept me going. And when I saw you, when I got back... I wanted to take you, claim you, make you mine. And all of this has been a violation of your privacy, so I had to apologize. And let you know, so you can, can move back into the guest suite. I won't make you stay with me, no matter how much I want to."

Ed laughed out loud.

"Ed - ?"

"That, my king, is the opposite of a problem," he smiled, his wide, brilliant smile that had seen so much more use in the past year, a direct correlation to how in love he fell from that moment on their wedding day when Oswald had first led him to triumph.

He hesitantly reached out to take his husband's hands as he said earnestly, "In fate's eyes, I have always loved you."

(and they lived happily ever after, the end)

**Author's Note:**

> I know the ending was a little rushed, sorry. I originally meant to end on, "He didn't mind it at all," but I figured I should give you guys the love confessions scene, even if it was a weird time skip thingy.   
> Comments make my day!  
> See you all tomorrow for Jealousy :)


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